The Journal of R M Renfield
by Joshua Kelsall
Summary: The story tells us through the journal entries of Renfield, the horrors that he experienced in castle Dracula. The horrors that drew him to madness.


The Diary of R. M. Renfield

31st December

This has been the most tiresome week of my life! I have been all over Europe heading towards the castle and looking forward to it I am, for at last I will be able to rest with ease. I wish Mr Hawkins had booked me into a fine hotel like he did most of his other employees on long travels. Maybe he didn't bother because it would make me seem more grateful to the Count.

Well, I definitely will be grateful of the Count's hospitality when I arrive, as I have not long left to go. I estimate that I shall arrive during the moonlight hours, for the sun is already setting, though as I write now I find myself increasingly disturbed by the gypsy woman sitting opposite me in the carriage, she keeps looking at me with a strange look of worry and fear on her face. It makes me feel rather uncomfortable, so I shall continue to write when that woman has got off the carriage. Prey that it be soon.

_Later, _At last that dreadful woman has gone! But quite an impression she had left upon me. It began the moment I put down my journal; she looked frantically at me and then, in a burst of speech she said. "Where are you heading this evening sir?"

I would have normally said that it was none of her business, but judging by her state of insanity, I thought it best to try and comply with her, with the hopes that she will become more sane.

"I am headed to Castle Dracula," I told her importantly. "I have business there with the Count. He wishes to purchase a property in London, and I am merely representing my firm."

There was little need to carry on speaking once I had mentioned the castle, for the moment I had, the woman began to panic, so much so that her eyes looked as though they would burst. She was a repulsive looking woman, wrinkled nose, baggy eyes and skin sagged with age, she also emitted the smell of a musty fungi.

She did not speak for a while, as she began to fumble through her pockets in a most furious manner. When she had finished she took a silver crucifix from her pockets and thrust it at me.

"Please take this sir," she begged, her eyes were darting madly all over my face, it was as though she was examining every inch of me. "It will protect you from the things that roam in the dark, things that prey on the light."

As I write now, I think that the better thing to do would have been to accept the gypsy woman's gift without question. But, as many people know, I am not a god worshipping man. I am a Christian and I do attend church and believe in the teachings of the bible, however I have my doubts as to the existence of god.

So I tried to tell her kindly that I did not care for such trinkets, but her reaction was far from sane.

"Oh but sir!" she exclaimed to me, her face was now so full of panic, it seemed as though her body was going to die of shock. "You have to take it! Please sir, I beg you! It is not safe to be walking these nights without god to protect you."

I was about to shout at the woman, for her lunacy was beginning to really get on my nerves, when, thank god, the carriage came to an abrupt halt and seconds later the driver opened the carriage door. The woman gave me one more horrific glance once she had stepped out of the carriage and she held out the crucifix one last time.

"Please sir!" she pleaded to me once more. "Take it now, you will regret it in times ahead if you refuse! Take it!"

I shook my head and smiled politely and before I knew it the woman had gone, the carriage door had closed once more, the driver had returned to his seat and took hold of the reigns. There was the distinctive sound as the whip lashed the horses and once more the carriage moved.

As I sit now, writing this journal I can hear the torrential rain pouring down and splashing like hail on the top of the carriage and bashing against the side of the windows. In addition to the rain, I can hear the thunder rumbling like some ferocious beast getting ready to devour me and the flashes of lightening blind me for several moments.

_Later – _I had to stop writing, for the lightening was so frequent that I could no longer see the page. Now it has stopped, save for the occasional flash and rumble. We are surely approaching the castle now, I looked out of the window and through the clouds I am sure I saw a dark, enormous silhouette of something in the distance. Whatever it was, for a bizarre reason made me feel uncomfortable, but when I looked downwards I was almost petrified.

The carriage wheels were literally an inch from the edge of a cliff, or should I saw mountain size drop. I would have rolled down my window and asked the driver to move more to the left but when I looked down out of the opposite window I saw the same drop, only the air was a little clear and I could see jagged rocks miles beneath and I shivered, overcome with fear, I hope we would reach the castle soon.

_Even later, sometime around eleven – _The carriage arrived at the castle at last and full of anxiety I got out before the driver could even come to open the door, in fact, he must have forgotten about me because as I looked back at the carriage, I saw nobody sat in it, nor anybody at the door. I had little time to ponder however, for I was awestruck by the ancient, majestic building that towered above me.

The castle was old and very worn, but even so it appeared so regal and strong, even though it was crumbling. Most of it was together however, though it seemed as though some magic force could be holding it. The front doors were huge and as I walked across the deserted courtyard to reach them I found that the knockers on the door were way out of my reach. I had to stand on the tips of my toes to reach them, but before my fingers were even close, the doors, as though by magic opened.

They made the most horrific scraping and creaking sounds as they opened wider, but when they had opened fully somebody stepped out from the shadows. He was an ancient looking man with bright white hair and bright blue eyes. His skin was almost as pale as his hair and his skin was so wrinkled it looked as though it was part of an ancient corpse. The man was dressed in a red cape that draped far behind him in an extravagant, powerful way. His thin pale pink lips formed a smile and the man spoke in a heavy Transylvanian accent.

"Welcome Mister Renfield. I am Count Vladimir Basarb. But will know me of course, by my title Count Dracula."


End file.
